


The Traditional Way

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Series: Old Fashioned [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:03:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Verstael didn't even realize he was slipping into an awful heat. Ardyn informs him back in the old days heats were better serviced with a willing alpha partner than painkillers and suppressants. Verstael doesn't want to admit he might be onto something but he's totally onto something.





	The Traditional Way

Verstael has become accustomed to Ardyn’s regular visits. His ancient scourge is very independent these days, off running their puppet government in secret, sending Verstael increasingly large amounts of money to fund his experiments, but he still drops in regularly for… some reason? Verstael doesn’t understand half the things Ardyn does but he’s fascinating company and surprisingly inoffensive to Verstael’s temper so Verstael permits the interruptions.

Verstael has been balls deep in developing a new demon hybrid for alsome time when Ardyn arrives this time. He only really becomes aware of how long he’s been synthesizing when the MT in his biochemical lab comes closer to inform him that Ardyn has used his security clearance at the gates and is making his way up the slope to the hangar.

Verstael blinks out of his stupor. Right, Six, how long has he been…? He checks the calendar on his phone. Yep, six days. Ugh. He sniffs the armpits of his lab coat. He hasn’t showered in at least forty-eight hours and its sort of evident. He’s got at least half an hour before Ardyn’s in the door and looking for attention so he strips his lab coat and heads towards the domestic wing.

In his quarters he throws himself under a searing hot shower and tries to work all the sweat out of his hair. He feels really gross now he’s noticing it. Its kind of a good thing Ardyn visits. Since the budget last increased Verstael has replaced most of his lab assistants with MTs so his human interaction is at a minimum. Ardyn is one of the few human faces Verstael sees regularly at this stage and his visits usually prompt this kind of self-check and self-care. He’s sure Ardyn knows he’s an insane asshole but he doesn’t have to look like a smelly urchin too.

He surprisingly doesn’t feel much better after the shower. Oh he’s cleaner, skin all red and puffy, but he doesn’t feel any lighter. If anything he feels heady and sore. He presses the back of his palm against his forehead. Is he catching a head cold? He hasn’t been sleeping regularly and its fucking freezing up here in the artic so perhaps…?

He dismisses his concerns. He’ll have dinner with Ardyn, he’ll sleep, and tomorrow he’ll be himself again. Stepping away from his test tubes for a while will help.

He changes into a button down and some pants just in time to greet Ardyn sauntering into the domestic wing. He’s flanked by escorting MTs Verstael dismisses with a wave and he’s flaked with snow.

“Did you ride a horse up the mountain?” Verstael snorts. “You’re wet.”

“Well, interesting story, I actually—” Ardyn pauses, head tilting.

Verstael wipes a few flakes of melting snow off his shoulder and snorts, snapping his fingers towards Ardyn’s face.

“What?” He hassles. “Are you off with the fairies again?”

“No, not at all,” Ardyn laughs, coming back to the moment with a curiously wicked smirk. “I just didn’t realize I’d caught you at such an inopportune time, Verstael.”

“Huh?” Verstael grunts, instantly suspicious. It’s never good news when Ardyn grins like a cat who just knocked a valuable antique off the coffee table.

“You’re…” Ardyn seems surprised he hasn’t noticed already, laughing. “Verstael, you’re in heat.”

Verstael feels his expression falter. His hand instantly flies back to his forehead. That’ll be the temperature, won’t it? He fumbles back, groping the swollen glands in his neck. When did he last—? He’s never been great with his suppressors but—Oh, right, six days with his head down in the lab. That’ll be why they’re wore off. And it triggered a heat, great,_ just great_.

“Fuck,” Verstael grumbles miserably. “Ugh, I don’t know why these awful genes persist. It’s such a goddamn hassle.”

“I’ve always found the whole…” Ardyn gestures vaguely, “it’s interesting, isn’t it? How people interact and how secondary sex plays into it? And—”

“It complicates already complicated things,” Verstael huffs. Things he’s not very good at either. “This is why I make all the MTs betas. It’s simpler.”

“Seems a damn shame when you make such a lovely omega,” Ardyn teases.

“Very cute,” Verstael grumbles again, heading through the wing to a medicine cabinet in the main bathroom to rifle for painkillers.

Ardyn follows him lazily, hands in his big coat pockets, and seems very much amused. Verstael finds a bottle of prescription and popping the cap starts counting doses. Can he last a few days on this shit or does he need to acquire more? Such a fucking hassle…

“I don’t know why you take those awful suppressors.” Ardyn slouches into the doorframe of the bathroom. “Heats are natural. Sacred.”

For someone who rejects his past so thoroughly Ardyn still can’t help but slip into wistful herb peddling healer from two thousand years ago every now and again.

“Easy for you to say,” Verstael grunts, “you’re an Alpha.”

And by far the strangest smelling alpha Verstael has ever encountered.

Verstael has never been hassled for his secondary sex. It’s something of a taboo subject in polite Niff conversation and being noble Verstael’s always had the privilege of position to protect him. Not that it matters much. He’s always been far more interested in genomes than physical chemistry and pheromones. He’s met plenty of alphas and they’ve never sparked anything interesting in him.

That said Ardyn has this bizarre aroma. It’s smoky and raw and it’s kind of fascinating. It makes Verstael’s gut lurch when he gets too close but he actively strives to ignore it most days.

“Being an alpha has its own disadvantages,” Ardyn assures dramatically, like a put-upon showgirl.

“Well heats are uncomfortable and frustrating and—”

“In my day that was easily solved.” Ardyn shrugs coyly.

Verstael bites; “Oh yes? How exactly?”

“It’s your body telling you to fuck, so back then we just fucked.” Ardyn grins, wicked as anything.

“Ugh, you’re insufferable.” Verstael rolls his eyes. “You should retire. Personally, I’m going to take these and collapse into a heap in my room.”

“Whistle if you need anything, my friend,” Ardyn salutes pushing off the frame and dissipating.

* * *

Verstael cannot settle. The painkillers aren’t doing shit. Everything aches, his stomach keeps cramping and he’s sweating up a fucking storm. At midnight he drags dirty clothes out of the hamper and linens out of the cupboard and starts making a nest.

_A nest_.

He feels absolutely absurd.

Verstael has never nested before. Usually he moved around estates as a child and nowhere really felt like his but the artic facility is his well-kept, fortified, home so he supposes it makes sense in that way. It may feel silly to rely on such old-fashioned comforts but that doesn’t mean he can fight the bubbling desire to be surrounded by soft, safe, things while he’s in pain.

Still while the linens are soft everything smells like omega which isn’t as satisfying as he imagined it in his head. Arm thrown over his face he inhales thickly tumbling into a moan on his exhale. Everything hurts. He hasn’t had a heat this fucking awful in years. He feels like a teenager.

Groaning he sit up groggily. He’s not getting any sleep like this. He feels bone tired but he can’t settle. Ice cream? Maybe. His clever little mind churns through possibilities for the next several minutes but he can’t think clearly either. He keeps getting distracted by cramps. Swearing, fumbling off the bed, Verstael decides he’s already made a deal with the Infernian. What’s one more?

Ardyn is in the lounge, still dressed, book in hand.

Verstael feels very underdressed in some low slacks but grunts to announce himself.

Ardyn whistles, trying not to laugh.

“Do something.” Verstael demands.

“Me?” Ardyn teases, looking playfully dumbstruck.

“Don’t just sit there,” Verstael snaps, “_help me._”

“Alright, alright…” Ardyn laughs, putting the book down. He rises, heading for the foyer—

“Where are you going?” Verstael groans furiously.

“One second, darling,” Ardyn soothes, coming back with his coat half on.

Verstael wants to bite his fucking hands off but Ardyn picks him up in this sweeping gesture like he weighs nothing and Verstael suddenly feels a little dizzy.

Fuck, for an asshole Ardyn does smell incredibly good…

Ardyn puts him down in the body of the nest with an appreciative hum.

“You know, for a modernist, you make a very inviting nest.”

Verstael groans, impatient but nearly delirious.

“Hold on, hold on,” Ardyn coaxes, stripping his coat off and layering it into the nest.

Verstael blinks, glancing groggily, but slumps back down when he realizes that actually helps. Yes, actually, having some heavy alpha sent in the nest actually makes it much nicer all of a sudden. As Ardyn strips his clothes off he very diligently enfolds them into the structure of Verstael’s preconstructed nest. Ardyn does it like he’s had some practice. The Oracle maybe? He still remembers all that long ago? Ugh, Verstael can’t pretend to care right now. He just wants to soak in the smell.

His cramping already feels better.

“There,” Ardyn declares proudly, “much better.”

Climbing up onto the bed Ardyn coils over the top of him, a heavy weight, and Verstael sighs with near tangible relief. Yeah, that, that’s the stuff. Ardyn’s things smell nice but Ardyn smells much better. Verstael tugs him down. Closer, more, _now_.

Ardyn pushes one knee between his leg and starts nosing the swollen glands in his neck. Verstael’s head rolls back on instinct, head tilting, exposing the whole length of his neck. Ardyn buries himself there, sucking, nipping, and the disgusting safe feeling that swells through Verstael is almost too much. He’s always been independent and Ardyn’s a literal undead monster but Verstael isn’t worried. Even half delirious he doesn’t feel like Ardyn will do anything he doesn’t clearly want. Somehow, when Verstael wasn’t looking, they developed some kind of tenuous trust or something. It’s awful.

Verstael’s hands start to move despite himself dragging down the clearly defined muscles in Ardyn’s shoulders and back. He’s strong. Somehow that’s hot. Verstael is trying, for once in his life, not to think too hard about it all.

Verstael feels his trim waist, his ribcage, nails dragging, just luxuriating under Ardyn’s attention to his neck and weight across him.

Then, all of a sudden, it starts to feel like its not enough. Verstael’s hips twitch.

“More? Already?” Ardyn murmurs but he doesn’t sound teasing this time as his hand gropes downward to squeeze Verstael’s hip.

Was that a question?

Verstael just groans.

“Honestly, you stubborn thing,” Ardyn snorts as he sits back, “should’ve just mounted you months ago.”

Verstael huffs, lifting his hips as Ardyn expresses an interest in stripping his slacks.

Ardyn’s hands run back up his knees to his hips as the alpha sinks down over him again. Verstael knows he needs more than this but Ardyn doesn’t seem keen to let him rush. Ardyn sucks his neck, hooking an arm under and around his waist, and Verstael feels stupid but sinking a hand into that thick dark hair decides he will not go down quietly and tugs Ardyn up to kiss him. Ardyn rumbles, growling, and Verstael has never paid much attention to alphas but he very quickly learns that’s a good sound from the way Ardyn sinks his tongue into his mouth.

Honestly Verstael feels like a fucking ragdoll. He knows Ardyn is strong and he’s a little dizzy but getting tossed around like this is ridiculous. Still Ardyn’s hair feels good around his fingers and hooking one leg around the man’s hips Verstael brings them pointedly closer.

Ardyn breaks away to laugh and moan in some heady combination of the sounds.

“Proud and stubborn,” Ardyn laughs, letting him fall back as he sits up. “Come on, love, up.” 

Verstael is confused but let’s Ardyn manhandle him onto his stomach and—

Oh, right.

Verstael thinks if his cheeks weren’t so hot already he might flush from behind positioned with his ass up on his knees.

“Very cute,” Verstael grumbles weakly.

“You’ll thank me later,” Ardyn assures.

“You’re dre—_Ahh_…” Verstael buries his face at the traitorous sound that creeps out when Ardyn starts fingering his slick hole.

Every god is a joke, Verstael has just decided.

Still Ardyn very patiently works him open, thumb rubbing into his hip, and Verstael has to admit he has this thorough, perfectly gently, way of doing things. Verstael’s heard horror stories of inexperienced young alphas who just mount their unfortunate partners and cause tearing. Ardyn’s evidently got too much practice for that.

He—

Oh fuck, what is _that?_

Verstael buries his face through another moan as Ardyn chuckles victoriously.

“That’s better,” he rubs against the spot, working another finger in. “Not that I think I’ll last much longer. You smell too good and it’s been a long, long, time…”

Make no mistake, Verstael is no virgin, but frankly it’s been a pretty long time for him too.

“Fuck…” Verstael pants out from his pillowed forearms. “_Please_, fuck, just…”

Ardyn shushes him and pulls his hips back.

Verstael feels him then; thick and hard. He takes a deep breath and coils his nails in the sheets and—

Ardyn pushes in very slowly. It’s almost infuriating. Verstael is so going to hit him later for this nonsense. Maybe send a thank you note but that’s another discussion.

Verstael groans, adjusting, as the alpha bottoms out inside him.

Ardyn pauses for a second, taking a breath, and grasping Verstael’s hips moans low.

His thrusts fall into a rough rhythm. It’s almost hypnotic. One hand fumbles down to grasp the back of Verstael’s neck, his scruff, but the other remains on his hips and Verstael finds himself arching back into every bump of their hips. Fuck, yes, that’s good. It feels amazing to have big, strong, stupid alpha inside him. Full and hot and safe.

Ardyn squeezes his scuff, somehow reading his mind, and Verstael realizes way too late he’s actually purring.

Ardyn lets out a resounding growl and picks up pace fucking him in earnest, like he wants it.

“God…” Ardyn moans, “yes?”

“Oh…” Verstael tries to focus, “fuck, yes, don’t stop…”

Verstael can feel Ardyn’s knot starting to swell. It’s catching as he thrusts and with another grind of his hips Ardyn sinks in past the knot. Verstael can’t really explain the sounds that come out of them collectively; they’re feral and satiated all at once.

Verstael barely realizes he’s coming. He’s just pushing back into Ardyn’s knot, aching on that razor’s edge of so hot, too hot, and then he’s howling open mouthed into the sheets. Ardyn makes the rawest noise he’s ever heard, grip dangerously strong on Verstael’s scruff, and growling cums inside him. Verstael sags, letting it happen, _enjoying it_.

Panting Ardyn rearranges them sluggishly.

They’re still joined at the hips, Ardyn’s knot isn’t going to go down that easily, but the Chancellor arranges them into a more comfortable position all the same. One arm under Verstael’s neck, the other around his hips, the blonde’s back to Ardyn’s front…

Verstael feels heady.

It’s a wonderful feeling.

He feels totally relaxed, utterly boneless, all spent and comfortable.

“Is that it…?” He supposes groggily.

Ardyn laughs.

“Few more days,” he reminds.

Verstael groans.

“Relax, relax,” Ardyn urges, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah…?” Verstael glances back.

“It would be exceptionally rude not to see you through your whole heat now we’re nesting,” Ardyn assures as if that’s just basic human decency.

“Good,” Verstael decides. Honestly this feeling kind of makes the heats worth it. “I…” He snorts, half sheepish. “I admit I’m starting to see the logic of what you were saying earlier…”

“Much easier with an alpha to rut you,” Ardyn nods into his hair.

“Hmm, god…” Verstael slumps back down, “everything smells so good…”

“Doesn’t it?” Ardyn sighs, obviously pleased with his lot in life.

They nest, all sheets and ice cream, for the next four days. It’s the longest heat Verstael has ever had and he suspects the presence of big, ancient, alpha musk is making his already stressed body go haywire. Still… he kind of likes it.

When Ardyn eventually leaves about a week later they’re still sharing a bed.

Ardyn leaves his coat.

Verstael keeps the nest.


End file.
